Voices In The Dark
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
16,623
Reviews:
193
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
16,623
Reviews:
193
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Arrival
Title: Voices In The Dark
Author: Nikkiling
Pairing: Legolas/OC, Legolas/? (haven't quite decided yet)
Rating: NC-17 (just in case)
Warnings: NCS, Mentions/Memories of child abuse, Self-harm, WIP
Summery: Thranduil sends one of his sons to Imladris, fearing that the stresses of constant battle against the encroaching darkness may be too much for the young prince. Little does anyone know the prince's true state of mind...
Disclaimer: This wonderful world belongs to Tolkien. I'm just borrowing the characters for a time and adding a few of my own.
Author's note: Reviews will be greatly appreciated. This is my first time, so please be gentle. Also, mental health tends to be a nebulous science in some aspects. Any inconsistencies will be attributed to the unknowns of elven physiology. Ha!
*This* denotes thought... or something to the effect.
Chapter Two: Arrival
Five elven riders drew abreast of each other on the crest of a gentle rise that overlooked the beautiful city of Imladris settled on the edge of the Misty Mountains. A cool breeze blew merrily about the small hill, bringing with it the pungent scent of pine, so different from the musky smells of oak loam and stone that swept through these foreign elves' cavernous home.
The riders appeared nearly identical to one another, each wearing the deep greens and rich browns of Mirkwood, each with hair in various shades of gold tied back from the face in warrior's plaits, each seated on horses ranging in color from dun to chestnut. From a distance one would hardly be able to tell one from another.
They peered down at their destination, glad to have finally reached Rivendell, and rest. The city was built within a small valley carved out by both the forces of time and water as the Bruinen and the Mitheithel rivers cascaded down the mountainside, leaving waterfalls and crystalline pools in their wake. Rivendell itself was carved out of stone and wood in such intricate detail that it appeared as if the city had blossomed from the rock, soil, and water that surrounded it. The entire valley seemed to beckon the riders to come and relax from their troubles, and most seemed willing to do just that.
One of the horses whose coloring was just slightly darker than the others pawed at the loose soil uncertainly before stepping back a pace, reacting to her rider's sudden change in mood and manner. The elf in question sat straight and proud upon his steed, his posture perfect. He had waist-length hair of a pale sandy-gold color, and was plaited in a fashion slightly different from his fellows. His dark blue eyes were the color of the night sky just before darkness completely closes in, and were staring directly at the city below with an expression of both uncertainty and hostility.
"What is wrong?" One of his comrades asked after catching sight of the intense look crossing the elf's angular features. She and the rest of the company were well used to this one's sudden shifts in demeanor, and while at times unnerving, there was rarely anything to fear. It appeared he had once again entered one of his more volatile moods, and they hoped he would settle before reaching their destination.
"I do not like this," he replied, his voice pitched surprisingly lower than was usual. "I wish to go back." Fear and anxiety pulled at his proud features, yet he refused to give succor to them, instead relying on anger to express his concern.
"You know going back isn't possible," another of the elves spoke up, drawing his mount back until he was even with the apprehensive rider. "You are under your father's orders."
"Aye," he spat angrily, and his mount stepped back further into the trees. "I am needed on the borders, yet he sends me here with concerns of my health and well-being. He knows nothing of me other than tales other elves tell! I wish he would leave well enough alone!"
Several riders looked to each other briefly, wondering exactly what Thranduil knew. He was never considered very close to his second son; the young prince growing up during a period of time when the orcs and giant spiders were resurging along the borders. The King's attention had been pulled towards his people's safety, leaving little time to watch over the young elfling. Yet King Thranduil still cared about his son, and listened to the stories and rumors concerning his son's battle prowess with a father's pride.
"Come. They will be expecting us." The warrior maid set her horse forward, not wishing to discuss the matter further. She alone knew what had sent Thranduil to worry. She had fought beside the prince for many years, if any could indeed say they fought alongside this fiercely solitary elf, guarding the borders of their realm from the encroaching evil. And while she found Legolas extremely peculiar at times, she hadn't found anything to be seriously concerned about, until recently. He had always been considered a wild fighter; very skilled but without any inhibitions about getting into a fight against impossible odds. Yet lately his recklessness had increased, and she had watched him intentionally drop his guard in the midst of battle to let an orc blade slice across his flesh, or seen him binding wounds in the dark that she knew weren't caused by any enemy sword. These incidents had frightened her, and rather than face either Legolas’ piercing, empty gaze or his complete confusion over the matter she went to his sister, a fellow warrior, in private about his behavior. Asquilyne had decided to bring the information to the attention of their father, who had immediately grown concerned. They all had agreed that perhaps a period of rest away from the stresses of constant battle may help the king's son, and a time under the watchful eye of a master healer could only be to their benefit.
The rest of the small troop started after the maid, Legolas following slightly behind. He couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding lodged deep within his mind, so instead he focused on his surroundings, hoping to receive some comfort from the tall trees that grew around him. The trees surrounding his home had always sought to reassure him in his distress, even if he didn't know the cause of these fears. Yet as he rode he noted that these trees held a different entity. Although certainly not hostile, they were wary, as if they sensed something not quite right within the mind of this wood elf, but were unsure of how to deal with it. They wanted to know more, to look closer, but Legolas pulled away before they could see further into the darkness than even he wanted to look.
*I wish to climb those trees*, came a voice within his mind, child-like and innocent. Legolas immediately withdrew his awareness from the world around himself, instead focusing inwards, listening to the soft murmur that always filled the back of his mind like the sound of a running brook.
As they rode on down the hillside the prince's eyes shifted color slightly, becoming as pale a blue as the summer's evening sky. A slow, hopeful smile appeared on his face, but none of the other riders noticed the sudden change in demeanor as they rode into Imladris.
Siven - I really glad you're enjoying it so far. I figured when writing it that even if only one person expressed interest, I'd keep going. Thank you so much for the encouragement!
Skyfire - Thanks for the great review! Just you reading it means a lot. Knowing how much you love these types of stories, I'll give you fair warning before the juicy stuff happens. ;-)
Arnettra - Thank you! I appreciate your good response!
I have this story outlined in my mind, and almost half of it already written. I'm trying for posting about once a week. I just hope it all works out! Sometimes the characters have minds of their own! (grin)
Author: Nikkiling
Pairing: Legolas/OC, Legolas/? (haven't quite decided yet)
Rating: NC-17 (just in case)
Warnings: NCS, Mentions/Memories of child abuse, Self-harm, WIP
Summery: Thranduil sends one of his sons to Imladris, fearing that the stresses of constant battle against the encroaching darkness may be too much for the young prince. Little does anyone know the prince's true state of mind...
Disclaimer: This wonderful world belongs to Tolkien. I'm just borrowing the characters for a time and adding a few of my own.
Author's note: Reviews will be greatly appreciated. This is my first time, so please be gentle. Also, mental health tends to be a nebulous science in some aspects. Any inconsistencies will be attributed to the unknowns of elven physiology. Ha!
*This* denotes thought... or something to the effect.
Chapter Two: Arrival
Five elven riders drew abreast of each other on the crest of a gentle rise that overlooked the beautiful city of Imladris settled on the edge of the Misty Mountains. A cool breeze blew merrily about the small hill, bringing with it the pungent scent of pine, so different from the musky smells of oak loam and stone that swept through these foreign elves' cavernous home.
The riders appeared nearly identical to one another, each wearing the deep greens and rich browns of Mirkwood, each with hair in various shades of gold tied back from the face in warrior's plaits, each seated on horses ranging in color from dun to chestnut. From a distance one would hardly be able to tell one from another.
They peered down at their destination, glad to have finally reached Rivendell, and rest. The city was built within a small valley carved out by both the forces of time and water as the Bruinen and the Mitheithel rivers cascaded down the mountainside, leaving waterfalls and crystalline pools in their wake. Rivendell itself was carved out of stone and wood in such intricate detail that it appeared as if the city had blossomed from the rock, soil, and water that surrounded it. The entire valley seemed to beckon the riders to come and relax from their troubles, and most seemed willing to do just that.
One of the horses whose coloring was just slightly darker than the others pawed at the loose soil uncertainly before stepping back a pace, reacting to her rider's sudden change in mood and manner. The elf in question sat straight and proud upon his steed, his posture perfect. He had waist-length hair of a pale sandy-gold color, and was plaited in a fashion slightly different from his fellows. His dark blue eyes were the color of the night sky just before darkness completely closes in, and were staring directly at the city below with an expression of both uncertainty and hostility.
"What is wrong?" One of his comrades asked after catching sight of the intense look crossing the elf's angular features. She and the rest of the company were well used to this one's sudden shifts in demeanor, and while at times unnerving, there was rarely anything to fear. It appeared he had once again entered one of his more volatile moods, and they hoped he would settle before reaching their destination.
"I do not like this," he replied, his voice pitched surprisingly lower than was usual. "I wish to go back." Fear and anxiety pulled at his proud features, yet he refused to give succor to them, instead relying on anger to express his concern.
"You know going back isn't possible," another of the elves spoke up, drawing his mount back until he was even with the apprehensive rider. "You are under your father's orders."
"Aye," he spat angrily, and his mount stepped back further into the trees. "I am needed on the borders, yet he sends me here with concerns of my health and well-being. He knows nothing of me other than tales other elves tell! I wish he would leave well enough alone!"
Several riders looked to each other briefly, wondering exactly what Thranduil knew. He was never considered very close to his second son; the young prince growing up during a period of time when the orcs and giant spiders were resurging along the borders. The King's attention had been pulled towards his people's safety, leaving little time to watch over the young elfling. Yet King Thranduil still cared about his son, and listened to the stories and rumors concerning his son's battle prowess with a father's pride.
"Come. They will be expecting us." The warrior maid set her horse forward, not wishing to discuss the matter further. She alone knew what had sent Thranduil to worry. She had fought beside the prince for many years, if any could indeed say they fought alongside this fiercely solitary elf, guarding the borders of their realm from the encroaching evil. And while she found Legolas extremely peculiar at times, she hadn't found anything to be seriously concerned about, until recently. He had always been considered a wild fighter; very skilled but without any inhibitions about getting into a fight against impossible odds. Yet lately his recklessness had increased, and she had watched him intentionally drop his guard in the midst of battle to let an orc blade slice across his flesh, or seen him binding wounds in the dark that she knew weren't caused by any enemy sword. These incidents had frightened her, and rather than face either Legolas’ piercing, empty gaze or his complete confusion over the matter she went to his sister, a fellow warrior, in private about his behavior. Asquilyne had decided to bring the information to the attention of their father, who had immediately grown concerned. They all had agreed that perhaps a period of rest away from the stresses of constant battle may help the king's son, and a time under the watchful eye of a master healer could only be to their benefit.
The rest of the small troop started after the maid, Legolas following slightly behind. He couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding lodged deep within his mind, so instead he focused on his surroundings, hoping to receive some comfort from the tall trees that grew around him. The trees surrounding his home had always sought to reassure him in his distress, even if he didn't know the cause of these fears. Yet as he rode he noted that these trees held a different entity. Although certainly not hostile, they were wary, as if they sensed something not quite right within the mind of this wood elf, but were unsure of how to deal with it. They wanted to know more, to look closer, but Legolas pulled away before they could see further into the darkness than even he wanted to look.
*I wish to climb those trees*, came a voice within his mind, child-like and innocent. Legolas immediately withdrew his awareness from the world around himself, instead focusing inwards, listening to the soft murmur that always filled the back of his mind like the sound of a running brook.
As they rode on down the hillside the prince's eyes shifted color slightly, becoming as pale a blue as the summer's evening sky. A slow, hopeful smile appeared on his face, but none of the other riders noticed the sudden change in demeanor as they rode into Imladris.
Siven - I really glad you're enjoying it so far. I figured when writing it that even if only one person expressed interest, I'd keep going. Thank you so much for the encouragement!
Skyfire - Thanks for the great review! Just you reading it means a lot. Knowing how much you love these types of stories, I'll give you fair warning before the juicy stuff happens. ;-)
Arnettra - Thank you! I appreciate your good response!
I have this story outlined in my mind, and almost half of it already written. I'm trying for posting about once a week. I just hope it all works out! Sometimes the characters have minds of their own! (grin)